The Days in the Life of Gilbert Grissom
by charmed1s-halliwells
Summary: The Day's of Grissom's life that shaped who he is. His father's death, hearing loss, true love, bullys, science. Why is Grissom the way he is? From ages 5 to about 25. Ends when he becomes a CSI. R
1. The Day of the Hand Language

**The Days in the Life of Gilbert Grissom**

_**Chapter 1: The Day of the Hand Language**_

**A/N: Hi everybody! This story will deal with the life of the most interesting of the CSIs, Gil Grissom. It starts when he is five, and ends when he is about twenty five. So far, there are about 8 chapters. Each chapter is set about 2-5 years apart. I don't own CSI. Enjoy the fic. If you read/review, I promise I'll update faster. **

"Gil, where are you?" Marybeth Grissom called through the house. There was a sound of running footsteps, and a small boy of five ran in front of her. His dark brown hair looked like it hadn't been brushed in weeks. There was a somewhat guilty expression behind his light blue eyes. It may or may not have had something to do with the open jar in his hand. In that jar sat a very large insect.

"Gil, it's time to -" Mrs. Grissom started. She stopped abruptly when he saw the jar. She flashed the little boy a stern glare. It was clear that something of the sort had happened many times before.

"Gilbert Xavier Grissom, what have I told you", she said in warning.

Young Gil Grissom shrugged his shoulders. "Her name is Millie, and she's a centipede", he said brightly. He flashed his mother a wide smile that made her heart melt. She could never stay mad at Gil for long. He was such a good boy. He had a peculiar fascination with insects, but he had always been a very good boy.

"Just don't bring it in the house", she whispered. She ruffled his already messy hair and shooed him out of the way. Gil opened his mouth to reply smartly, as he usually did, but Marybeth heard none of it. It was just as she had always feared, ever since she had been about twenty. It was what the doctors had warned her might happen.

Marybeth Grissom suffered from a gradual hearing loss that had begun in early adulthood. Her mother had had it, as had her grandfather. It was genetic. She hoped Gil didn't get it. It had not yet become sever. She had only ever heard a couple of words less clearly. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

Lately, however, it had slowly been getting worse. She had yet to admit it, not even to her husband, but recently there have been times when she had missed entire sentences. She had resolved to learn to live with it…but with Gil…hearing was essential so that she would be able to understand Gil.

Gil was about to take his centipede Millie outside, but Marybeth stopped him. "I need to talk to you about something very important", she said to her son. She sat down on the sofa, and Gil sat down next to her. He looked up at her, his big blue eyes filled with curiosity. Gil had always loved learning. He had always loved discovering things…

Marybeth thought for a moment, trying to find a way to phrase this situation so that a five year old would understand. Then again, Gil wasn't exactly the most normal of five year olds. She decided to just go for it.

"You know how everyone has 5 senses, right?" she asked. He nodded his head vigorously, as if to say that was a stupid question to ask.

She continued, "Well…one day, probably very soon, I'm going to lose my hearing." Gil gasped, and his eyes went wide.

"You mean you won't be able to talk to me anymore?" Gil asked sadly. He was so sad, and so sincere. Mrs. Grissom was quick to allay his fears.

"I'll still be able to talk to you, but it'll be a different way of talking, sort of like a secret language." Young Gilbert looked intrigued. She knew that a prospect of a secret language would by exciting him. Gil loved to learn and discover new things.

"How do you speak this language?" Gil asked excitedly. It sounded as though he couldn't wait to start learning.

"I'll teach you how to speak it", Marybeth said matter-of-factly.

Teach him is just what she did. She knew that this day was coming. She remembered when her own mother had begun loosing her hearing. She was about Gil's age when that happened. Her mother began to teach her sign language as soon as that happened. Both her older brother, and herself had to learn it. That was how she had become fluent in sign language, just as she knew Gil must. She hoped he never lost his hearing.

Gil's eyes lit up as his mother taught him word after word. This lesson reinforced his belief that his mommy knew everything. When Gil grew up, he wanted to be just as smart as his mommy and his daddy. That's the reason he practiced his reading and his math every afternoon after he got home from kindergarten. His teacher, Mrs. McGreevy said that he was a smart little boy. Gil wanted to know everything.

He copied his mothers hand movements thoughtfully and very carefully. He wanted to get it exactly right. He would giggle in delight every time he signed a word correctly. This wasn't as hard as he thought. This was so easy! When his daddy got home, he would show his daddy this cool new language. He would show his daddy how smart he was.

"This secret language is just between you and me, Gil", his mother said kindly.

Gil nodded eagerly. All he wanted was for his mommy to teach him more of this cool new language. Maybe he could teach some of the kids in his class. They were sure to like that. They would think this cool language was nifty.

Gil was eager to show the other boys in his class. He knew that they would love to see that. The other boys didn't really like to play with him when it was playtime. He heard the other boys taking, and they said he wasn't cool enough to play. Davey McScarf would call him bug boy. This cool secret language was sure to make them want to play with him.

He didn't want to break his promise to his mommy. This was a problem for Gil. His mommy was great, but he didn't like to play alone at playtimes. Georgie Smith used to play with him, but then he moved really far away…to Canada. Maybe his mommy wouldn't mind that much…

Gil heard the sound of a car in the driveway that stopped his lesson. Fredrick Grissom had come home from work. Marybeth didn't hear the car, but she could tell that her husband was home because of the look on Gil's face. Often, he waited all day, just for his father to arrive. The two were truly like two peas in a pod.

"Daddy!" Gil yelled, running to the man in the doorway. Fredrick was a tall man with graying hair, and his glasses were the identical to those of his son. He was a professor of botany at the local university. In Gil's opinion, that was the coolest job in the world.

"How was your day dear?" Marybeth asked her husband gently. She was sincerely interested in how his day was. As his father told his mother about his day at work, Gil became impatient. He wanted to tell his daddy about _his _day. It was a very interesting day, honest and truly. He tugged on his father's suit leg, causing the older man to bend down and look at him.

"I'm sorry for ignoring you, my smart little guy", Mr. Grissom said with a small chuckle. "Now what was it you wanted to tell me?" Gil smiled. His daddy was really the coolest daddy ever.

"Mommy taught me something really cool!" Gil said, excitement shining in his eyes. He looked down at his little hands, and moved them exactly as his mother had shown him. His small face was screwed up in concentration, and when he was finished, his face broke out in a wide grin. "That means my name is Gil", Gil said smiling.

"That's great Gil", his father said slowly. It looked as though he was slowly digesting this new information. It was impossible to tell how he felt. Gil thought that he was sad, because he was frowning a little.

"Why are you sad daddy?" Gil asked sadly. His father's smile returned, and he ruffled Gil's messy brown hair. He only did that when he was happy.

"I'm not sad at all, just a little surprised", Fredrick Grissom said earnestly. That was really how he felt, for he had never, nor would he ever, lie to his son.

Marybeth shot her husband a look which meant; we need to talk. Fredrick followed his wife into the kitchen. Gil tried to follow, but his mother stopped him.

"Your father and I need to have a grown-up conversation" said Marybeth. She went into the kitchen and closed the door, locking Gil out.

Gil scowled. He hated being left out of things. He wasn't a baby. He was five whole years old. That was a lot; a whole hand. He tried to listen at the door but he couldn't hear them. At least they weren't yelling. He would be able to hear if they were yelling. Maybe mommy was teaching daddy the hand language. It could be the secret language of their whole family.

That would be so cool!


	2. The Day of the Birthday Surprise

**Chapter 2: The Day of The Birthday Surprise**

**A/N: Thanks to all my lovely reviewers. Your reviews made me happy, so keep reviewing. I shall respond to your reviews in my livejournal…my username is p3charmer. Some information in this story will contradict what has been said on the show, but that's just cause that particular information doesn't go with my story. **

Today was the 17th of August. For Gil Grissom, this was the most special day of the year. Today was his 7th birthday. He spent all day for dinner time to role around. Dinner was when it would be his birthday party. That's when all of the other boys would come and play with him. They didn't usually play with him at school, so today would be extra special. He would have so much fun, he was sure of it. All he had to do was wait for his friends to arrive.

At about four o'clock, Gil was growing antsy. He had abandoned his toy bugs, and he was sitting on the sofa near the window. Marybeth tried to discourage her son from waiting, knowing that time would go more slowly. He wouldn't listen to a word she said and he insisted on waiting for his friend. However, when 5:00 rolled around, Mrs. Grissom too was waiting.

One minute passed, the five, the ten. Before Marybeth and Gil knew it, it was 5:30 p.m. Still, no guests had arrived. Still, Gil was waiting. He hadn't moved from his widow seat. Mrs. Grissom wrung her hands in worry. She was worried for her son. He just sat there, petting that horrible insect of his. She knew that Gil was different than the other boys. She still wished the other boys weren't so cruel to him.

Without a word, Gil got up, still holding his bug, and walked upstairs to his room. He slammed the door, and Marybeth knew her son well enough to know that he was crying. Sure enough, she heard the sound of quiet sobs coming from Gil's room. Gil held his emotions in sometimes. Marybeth knew that that wasn't good for him.

She knocked on the door three times in quick succession. A small voice replied, " Go away!" Gil could be so difficult sometimes. She was about to try again, when the key turned into the lock of the front door. Her husband came bursting through the door.

"How's my little birthday boy?" Fredrick Grissom asked cheerfully.

"He's very upset because nobody showed up", Marybeth Grissom whispered somberly to her husband. Mr. Grissom walked right up to his son's door and opened it. He wasn't to be bothered with knocking. He found Gil lying down on his bed, looking at the ceiling.

"Go away", Gil mumbled, not even looking at his father.

"We're going outside", Mr. Grissom said firmly. Gil followed his father begrudgingly out the back door. They stopped in the center of the garden. Normally, the garden was a place that Gil loved to go. Now, however, he could only think of the boys that he though were his friends.

Mr. Grissom knelt beside a small plant, and Gil followed suit. " This is what I do. This is my job, Gilly", Mr. Grissom explained. The little boys eyes went wide. Every morning like clockwork, his father disappeared to his mysterious work. He would come back every evening. Gil often wondered where he went and what he did.

Gil's father handed him a shovel, and told him to start digging. He gestured to several baby plants, all in a row, still in their packaging. "You're going to help me plant these", said his father. Gils' eyes lit up with pride. He loved to halp his daddy, and cherished every chance he had to do so.

Father and son happily worked, digging and planting. It didn't seem like work to either of them. Fredrick Grissom was just happy that his son was finally talking to him. Gil was just happy that his father was listening. The conversation flowed so easily from school, to plants, to bugs. It was as if they were best friends, instead of 7 year old son, and thrity-something year old father.

Neither knew how long they had been in the garden. It was getting dark, so it must have been hours at least. Gil looked up to see his mother, standing just outside of the house. She wasn't standing alone.

"Georgie!" Gil yelled his voice full of excitement. He ran to meet the friend that he hadn't seen in what seemed to him, forever. Taking little notice of his mother, Gil grabbed Goergie's hand, and began showing him the garden. All the while they were chattering excitedly.

Marybeth and Fredrick watched their son and his friend running around the garden. They caught snatches of conversation. It seemed like Georgie shared Gil's unusual passion for bugs. The two friends were chatting animatedly about centipedes or millipedes, or something of the sort.

All week, Mrs. Grissom was so worried that her son wouldn't have a happy birthday. To see him smiling and laughing like this; it was all she had wanted.

"We did a good job", Mrs. Grissom said to her husband.

"It was a great party", Mr. Grissom said laughing. His wife looked at him indignantly. "That's not what I meant", he quickly amended.

"It did make Gil happy", said Marybeth. Gil was happier than she had ever seen him before. She decided it was time to give Gil his present. In a perfect world, she had planed to let Gil open the presents after the cake. They hadn't even eaten any of the cake she had made.

"Do you have Gil's present?" Marybeth asked her husband. She had been very reluctant to buy Gil that particular present. She knew that Gil would have loved it. That didn't stop his present from terrifying her.

It was her husband who had talked her into buying it. He had assured her that it was no longer dangerous. He had told her that Gil was a smart boy that he could take care of it. It wasn't like she doubted those words, but she was still apprehensive. Even though it was no longer poisonous, it still terrified her.

Fredrick pulled a plain box out of his coat pocket. There was nothing strange about the box, save for the three small holes on the top. It was so what was in the box could breath. She backed away from the box. Eve though she knew the box was firmly closed, Marybeth was still frightened.

"Gil, come here a second", she called. Gil came running, as did his little friend Georgie.

"What's that?" Gil asked pointing at the box.

"That's your present dear", she said kindly. She handed him the box, and he quickly took it. Ever so slowly, he undid the bright red bow tied around the box. He was always such a careful child. When he finally took the ribbon off the box, he gasped in delight.

She shuddered, and took a step backwards. From the box came a thin hairy leg. Seven more quickly followed. A large hairy spider had managed to push himself out of the box. It turned, and seemed to look at Gil with its eight shinning eyes. The tarantula slowly crawled onto Gil's hand. Then it went up his arm and rested on his shoulder.

Marybeth let out a strangled cry of horror. She had to keep reminding herself that the spider wasn't dangerous anymore; a special vet had seen to that. That didn't stop her from worrying. Gil was her only child, her baby, and that made her very protective of him.

Gil, on the contrary, wasn't afraid at all. He was petting the tarantula's furry head. He looked at it lovingly, talking softly to it. Georgie wasn't as loving towards Gil's new pet. He was looking at the tarantula in awe. His deep brown eyes looked at it admiringly. Gil's friend sure was something else, just like Gil himself.

Gil studied the tarantula thoughtfully. Marybeth was still keeping a respectable distance. Fredrick stood slightly closer, although even he was keeping his distance. Gil looked up at his father and smiled. There was a gap where his front teeth once were. It gave him an adorable appearance that neither Marybeth nor Fredrick could ever resist.

"Mommy, Daddy", he said sweetly, "can I keep my new pet in my room?"

He was so adorable that Marybeth wanted to give him everything he wanted. She desperately tried to master the impulse. She opened her mouth to say something to protest Gil's idea, but her husband stopped her.

"I think Gil's room would make a fine place to keep his pet", said Fredrick jovially. Gil beamed, and Marybeth scowled at her husband.

"I'm going to name him…daddy!" Gil exclaimed excitedly. His father smiled at him. They began to speak excitedly about their plans with "daddy". Georgie joined right in. She watched her boys, Gil and Fredrick, as her lips slowly curved into a small smile.

Gil was a strange boy all right. But then again, so was his father. It was like they always said, like father, like son…

**TBC…**


	3. The Day His Father Died

**Chapter 3: The Day His Father Died**

**A/N: This is taking me so long! I don't mean it to take so long…it just does. Thanks to the people who reviewed, keep doing that. To those who didn't review, please review! I'm going to put review responses on my livejournal. My penname's P3charmer, so check it out. Enjoy!**

It was the hottest day ever. It was all over the radio; record breaking temperatures, heat wave. Nine year old Gil Grissom didn't like the heat. He spent most of his time sitting beside the large rotating fan, reading his encyclopedia.

On Saturday morning, he varied his routine slightly. Saturday was the one day set apart for television. He loved all the cartoons they showed on Saturday morning. He would sit in front of the television for hours, mesmerized by the colorful moving pictures. Gil woke up at 6:00 a.m. that Saturday morning, just as he did every Saturday.

"Gil!" called Mrs. Grissom from the kitchen. It was nine o'clock, and Gil's mother and father were already awake.

Marybeth Grissom came out of the kitchen, holding a large tray laid with eggs, toast, and juice. She placed the breakfast tray in front of her son and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. She began to move her hands rapidly. Gil watched her with close attention.

"I've made you breakfast. I expect that you eat it", Mrs. Grissom signed. Over the past few years, Marybeth Grissom had been gradually loosing her hearing. It had been subtle at first. Now she was almost completely deaf. She had learned how to sign, and to read lips. She had taught her husband and son. Sometimes she was afraid it wasn't enough.

Gil eyed the food, and frowned. This extreme heat had taken away all of his appetite. "I'm not hungry", she signed to his mother. She sighed, and looked at her son sternly.

"At least eat the toast", Mrs. Grissom insisted with her hands. Gil shrugged, and took the toast off of the plate. Marybeth sighed and took the rest of the tray back to the kitchen. Little Gil was so difficult sometimes.

Gil munched at the toast. He was **so **hot. Gil was hotter than he had ever been in his life. Sweat was causing his t-shirt to stick to him. He inched closer to the fan. That was only slightly better. He was distracted from the heat because his favourite show, The Jetsons was on. He inched closer to the TV as he munched on his toast.

The show was over, which meant that it was now 9:30. Gil looked towards the front door. His dad would be finished working in the garden any minute now. Then, his daddy promised they could eat ice cream without telling mom. Then they would eat ice cubes and watch cartoons together. Since the beginning of the heat wave, that's what he had been doing with his father.

Finally, after the next show, which was the Flintstones, his father came stumbling through the door. He looked different then he usually did. Mr. Grissom was sweating profusely. His breathing was labored as if he had just run a marathon.

"What's wrong honey?" Mrs. Grissom asked. Gil gaped at her. She usually preferred signing to speaking since she had gone deaf.

"Tired", Fredrick said with a sigh. He sank into their worn sofa, looking utterly exhausted. Gil leapt off of the sofa. He surveyed his father with concern. His dad was sweating too much, even for this heat. Gil could see the pain in his eyes, although his expression hid it well.

It reminded Gil of the time he had had the flu. He had felt so sick. Everything had hurt him. His father sure looked like that now.

"I'll go get us something to drink", Marybeth signed quickly. She retreated to the kitchen. She searched for some ice, which was the only way to make any drink even moderately cold.

Left alone with his father, Gil tried his best to concentrate on the television. He couldn't let go of his horrible fear for his father. Gil looked over at the couch. His father was still there, with his eyes half open. Gil couldn't see how he could be cold, but his father was shivering.

Gil looked back at the cartoons, but turned to his father once again. His fathers face was bright red, and he had stopped sweating. He tried to get up, but then swayed a little, and fell back onto the couch. There was something seriously wrong with his father. Gil watched as his father closed his eyes, and his body went limp.

Gil knew that something was wrong. He couldn't hear his father's breathing, which had been quite loud before. Instead of the stop sign red his father's face had been minutes ago, it was now the scariest of grayish-blues. "Mom!" Gil yelled in a panic.

It took him a moment to remember that she wouldn't be able to hear him. So he got up and ran to the kitchen. There was his mother, carrying two large glasses with equal parts ice and lemonade. "Can you help me with these glasses?" his mother signed with one hand while balancing the glasses in the other.

For the first time in his life, Gil ignored his mother. It was an emergency after all. "We need to help dad!" Gil signed frantically. His mother did not hesitate. Still holding the glasses, she ran into the living room. There was his father, lying immobile on the sofa. His skin was still blue-gray in color, and his eyes were closed.

When Marybeth saw her husband, her face went chalk white. She let go of the glasses she was holding. They fell to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. She didn't seem to care. "No", she whispered. There were already the beginnings of tears in her eyes. She sank down onto the carpet, chocking back violet sobs.

"Mommy", Gil said softly. His voice was shaking with fear. He had never seen his mother cry like this before. He put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him, her brown eyes tinged red, and full of tears. "Why are you crying?" He asked and signed innocently. This only made his mother cry harder.

He looked at his father on the couch. His father still hadn't moved, although his mother had been crying loudly. Gil ran to his father's side, shaking him, trying to get him to wake. He wouldn't wake up. He wouldn't even move. Gil realized that he wasn't even breathing.

"Daddy!" Gil cried, "Daddy! Please wake up! You have to wake up! Mommy's crying! We love you! You just have to wake up!" His mother had shakily gotten up. She put what was supposed to be a comforting hand on Gil's shoulder. Her hand was trembling.

Gil stared though the tears at his father's prone body. Everything seemed to have lost all meaning. Everything except the fact that his father wasn't waking up. What if he never woke up? His father was a part of him. He would be destroyed if his father wasn't there anymore.

"Mommy, why isn't daddy waking up?" Gil asked, looking directly at his mother. She did not answer, although Gil knew that she had read his lips. She merely continued to cry, as the grip on his shoulder tightened.

No one ever told Gil Grissom why his father wasn't waking up…

**TBC…**


	4. The Day His Heart Was Broken

**Chapter 4: The Day His Heart was Broken**

**A/N: For those who reviewed last time, I've responded to your reviews in my livejournal. Username: p3charmer. This chapter has some more sadness for poor little Gil. I really like it, and I hope you guys do to. Please read and then review! If you do, I'll love you forever. **

It had been two years since Gil Grissom had lost his father. He had grown a lot since then. He was eleven years old, and much more mature than his peers. His sentiments over his father's death had changed quickly from confusion, to anger to sadness. Right now, he would have to say that he had reached resigned acceptance. His father was never coming back, and now all he had was his mother.

Marybeth Grissom had always been a strong woman. She didn't like to rely on anyone for anything. Since her husband had died, she had been trying her hardest to raise her son Gil on her own. She managed to hold down a secretarial job, but it didn't pay very much. They couldn't afford many things that they once could. It didn't help that she was now completely deaf.

To Gil's credit, he never once complained. He now helped around the house without being asked. Truthfully, during he had been worried about his mother over the past few years. To the world, she presented a brave face, but Gil knew better. Late at night, she would still cry. Marybeth worked very hard to give Gil everything he needed. He was more worried about what she needed.

Gil's life at school was more satisfactory then it had ever been. When he started middle school that September, something wonderful had happened. For the first time in his life, he had friends. After joining the science, math and chess clubs, he had realized that there were people just like him. His new best friend Eugene didn't share his passion for bugs, but they could be found in the cafeteria, passionately discussing math equations, or the latest scientific theories.

All week long, Gil looked forward to Wednesday and Friday afternoons. Those days, from 3:30 to 5:30 p.m. were when the science club met. He had always been specifically fascinated by science, and he loved to talk about it with others. His mother would listen to him talk about it for hours on end, but Gil knew she was only doing it to humour him. The other members in the science club, which was currently going 25 members strong, didn't only want to talk about science, they enjoyed it.

The stimulating discussion wasn't the only reason he enjoyed the science club. He loved all of the friends he had managed to make there. There was one person in particular that made the science club worthwhile. The president of the science club was a 12 year old seventh grader named Melinda Thompson. She enjoyed talking to the club about anything scientific, even, to Gil's great delight, bugs. Not only did she like the same things as him, but he couldn't help but notice that she was extremely pretty.

Eugene thought that Gil had a crush on her. Gil could vehemently argue until he was blue in the face, but Eugene stuck to his convictions. After a while, Gil wondered if what Eugene said was true. While most of his science club peers listened to their discussions, Gil found himself staring at Melinda. She had really nice brown eyes, and her hair was very shiny.

Even if Gil did have a crush on her, which he wasn't really sure of; Melinda would never notice anybody like him. She was pretty and popular. He did have friends now, but to popular people like her, he would be nothing more than invisible. He had managed to become the secretary for the science club in order to have some sort of conversation with her. That plan backfired, as during the meetings of the executive, he remained next to silent.

The upcoming science fair seemed to give him another opportunity to talk to Melinda. He would make the best project ever, and that was sure to impress her. Technically, the science fair was for grade seven and 8, but a few grade sixes in the science club had been invited. He heard Melinda talking excitably about it with her friends. Gil saw this as his big chance.

Today was the day of the science fair. In his mind, Gil also saw it as the day that Melinda would finally talk to him. He had worked for weeks on his science project. He had made an ant farm. For the weeks that he had worked on it, he had enjoyed watching the ants and taking notes on their behaviour. He took his glass case out, and put it on the table given to him as a booth. He only began to feel nervous when people were starting to pass by.

He spotted one of Melinda's friends named Candace. That meant that Melinda couldn't be far behind. Sure enough, he noticed her a few tables away, sitting behind a model volcano. Gil didn't think Melinda was the type that would make a volcano. Although…he wasn't really paying attention to her project. Her blond hair was tied up with a sparkly ribbon that made it shine much more.

Gil straightened up as Candace approached his table. If he managed to impress her, she'd be sure to tell Melinda about him. He took a deep breath and recited the script he had memorized. "Ants are one of the most successful groups of insects in the animal kingdom, and are of particular interest because they form highly organized colonies and…" Gil was cut off there.

"Who cares about gross ants!" she screamed shrilly. "Who are **_you _**anyways?" She didn't wait for Gil to finish, as she ran off to Melinda's table giggling.

"What does she know?" Gil mumbled. He watched as she whispered to the gaggle of girls that always seemed to surround Melinda. He felt a sinking feeling as Melinda giggled too. This wasn't working at all how he had planned. If he ever wanted to talk to Melinda, he had to just go for it.

He walked over to her table, shaking from head to toe. He had to go for it…or he would never know. When he reached her, he said, "Hi Melinda." She merely stared at him. He turned crimson, but he didn't move.

"Um…I'm Gil…You might not know me, but I'm the secretary of the science club. I just wanted to say…You're very nice, and I like your hair." He said it all very quickly, as if it wouldn't be as painful if he got it over with. He looked at his shoes, not sure what had just made him do that.

Melinda glared at him. She had a very mean look in her eyes. "So", she said impatiently, "what do you want?" Melinda was making this very difficult for him. He should have just walked away then, but he didn't.

There was a dance next week, and Gil didn't want to be the only one who was going alone. He would give anything if Melinda would go with him. His mother always told him that he would never get anything that he wanted if he didn't even asked. It went against all of his better judgment, but he continued this ill fated conversation.

"You…you know how there's a dance? Next week? Well…um…it would be really…neat…if you would go with me", Gil stammered. He waited for a second that contained eternity for her to answer.

She did what Gil had always dreaded she would do. She laughed. Her laugh was cruel and mocking. Just as they always did, her friends followed suit. " I would never go to the dance with you, not if you were the last boy on earth! You're a weird creepy looking little freak, and you'll never get a date!"

Melinda had spoken quite loudly. Nearly everyone in the gymnasium was looking their way. The girls around Melinda continued to laugh, as if they found the whole thing to be a big joke. Some of the boys considered "cool" joined in the laughter, as if just getting the joke. Even the kindest of students and teachers couldn't help but stare.

Gil would have given anything in the world to be invisible. The laughter swirled around him, entrapping him like a prison. He looked frantically around the crowd of faces, looking for some way to escape. The faces seemed blurred for some reason. The laughing wouldn't stop…Gil wanted it to stop…His cheeks were burning. There were the beginnings of tears in his eyes, but he wouldn't let himself cry, not in front of all of these people.

He spotted the glowing sign that said exit. Without thinking, he bolted towards the door. He ran out into the warm California air, without knowing precisely where he was going. His feet pounded the pavement, tracing out a path for themselves. Hot tears flowed freely down his cheeks now. All he knew was that he needed to get away from his school, and he needed to get away now.

He found himself at the entrance of a small fair that he passed every day, but had never entered. He didn't know why he was there, but he suddenly wanted to go inside. He paid the two dollar entrance fee, and began to walk around. The fair was almost deserted now. He supposed that it was because it was the middle of the school day, and most who went to this fair were children.

It wasn't that impressive. There were a few small rides, and game and food stands. What really attracted his attention was the red steel roller coaster at the far end of the grounds. He saw no line. Right now, what he needed was a thrill to get his mind off what had just happened. He had always loved roller coasters when he had been happy. Now he just needed to find out how he liked them when he's miserable.

The man who ran the roller coaster was very nice. He told Gil all about how the ride worked. Gil found it very interesting. A roller coaster is basically a specialized railroad system, where the track rises and falls in specific patterns with inversions. Knowing the science of it made Gil much less apprehensive then he would normally be.

He settled into the roller coaster, the only passenger. As it went up the steep hill, he found himself going over all that had just happened. What Melinda said to him had really affected him deeply. He wanted to say that he wasn't a freak…but he didn't know that it was true. He was also worried. No one like him could ever get a date. Gil felt as if Melinda had said what all other girls were thinking.

He would never be good enough, and he could never do anything to change that. He would never be cool. He would never be the type of boy girls like. That was all Gil wanted to be. Sitting there, on the top of the hill of the roller coaster, Gil felt like a looser.

The roller coaster went up and down and upside down. Gil found it oddly soothing and liberating. As the coaster car zoomed around the tracks, Gil let the pent up tears fall. The man let him go around the track as many times as he wanted, for the park was still near empty. Gil rode the roller coaster over and over again, and he cried…


	5. The Day the Ghost Became Visible

**Chapter 5: The Day that the Ghost Became Visible**

**a/n: This is a longer than usual chapter, but the next one will be longer. Please read and review with nice things. I'm quite proud of this chapter, even though it almost made me cry. Despite my wishes, I still own nothing. Enjoy!**

Life for fourteen year old Gilbert Grissom hadn't changed much in the last three years. He was now a freshman in high school. That meant a bigger school, and harder classes. Gil didn't really see the difference. School was basically the same, no mater your age.

He was still great friends with Eugene, for which he was very grateful. Eugene was always there to talk with him about the things he was very obsessively interested, like science. Eugene was in none of his classes, though, so the only time he got to see him was lunch time. In his classes, Gil was labeled "the smart from" from the first time he had set foot in them. That was one thing he hated about high school; the labels.

Gil was very observant when it came to people. He hadn't forgotten his first love of bugs. What people did, and why they did it, was very fascinating to him. Eugene didn't understand what was so interesting. To Gil, what his classmate did was the biggest scientific puzzle of them all. People were the greatest scientific anomaly, and Gil thrived on challenge.

By the end of the first week of high school, Gil had noticed the groups the ninth graders had subconsciously formed. These groups came into play mostly in the cafeteria. If you sat outside your group, it was considered a violation of some unwritten law. In the center of the room were the three most influential groups of them all; the cheerleaders, the jocks, and the other miscellaneous popular people.

You didn't have to be a cheerleader or jock to be popular, but with cheerleaders and jocks, it was sort of automatic. Other people had to work for popularity, but once they got it, they had some sort of unwritten power. They always had the best lunch tables, the best parties…pretty much the best of everything. The popular people could also make or break someone with a single word.

There were other groups, seated around the popular tables. They were the artistic people, a group of giggling girls who were pretty, but didn't quit make popular. There was also the druggies, and the punk/Goth kids. Those kids weren't exactly cool, but they had a semi decent status within the school. They stayed within their own group, rarely mingling. For the freshmen, the groups had been decided during the first two weeks of school, and they were difficult to change.

Finally, there were the groups on the outside, the ones who were considered the most "un cool". They were mostly nerds and weirdoes. People who were different then what was considered normal. Gil didn't live in a large city. It wasn't a small town either, but most people knew most people, and everything was extremely stereotypical. People, not just in high school tended to be friends with people like the, and high school was no exception.

Gil wasn't really sure about where he fit in this school ruled by labels. Eugene was his only real friend, the only one he could talk to. He couldn't even tell Eugene everything. Gil had friendly acquaintances, but they weren't really friends. In the cafeteria he sat with the science nerds, but even among them, he didn't fit in. Science didn't really rule his life as it did theirs. He had other interests, where they did not. It was as if no one but Eugene could actually see him if he wasn't exactly like him.

He was invisible. That's what Gil finally decided he was. He was a ghost in a high school of stereotypes. Very few of his classmates saw him, and most of the time Gil preferred it that way. Sometimes, though, it got a little lonely with only Eugene for company. Eugene wasn't even there today. He had been home with the flu for the past three days. When Gil felt alone like this, his mind tended to wander.

There was one way that he was a bit obviously different from the science nerds with which he sat. While they were immersed in their science, he seemed to be the only one who had noticed the opposite sex. Since sixth grade, girls had become more than just the opposite of boys. Gil noticed how they looked, how the giggled. He had had his crushes, that was sure, but not since he was 11 had he ever acted on any of them.

Melinda was the first and last girl that he liked who he had talked to. What Melinda had said all those years ago had deeply affected him. When it came to girls, Gil was painfully shy. Any time he like a girl, he feared talking to her, in case she were to say something like what Melinda had said. It had taken him weeks to convince himself that it wasn't true.

Melinda still went to the same school as him. Gil still made sure he knew where she was from time to time. He had taken to avoiding her, incase she decided to say something as embarrassingly horrible or as horribly embarrassing ever again. The last time she had spoken to him was grade 8 graduation where he had accidentally bumped into her. She had angrily hissed, don't touch me freak. That was the end of that.

He always tried his best not to focus on Melinda, or all of the other pretty girls who would never talk to him. It seemed better that way. Today, he had something much more important to focus on. Gil tended to notice things that other people didn't. He felt his eyes drawn to the table where the druggies sat. Gil looked around the cafeteria, and no one seemed to notice.

One of the largest and most frightening of the druggie guys was looking menacingly at a scrawny, twitchy looking boy. The smaller boy looked terrified, and he looked like he was begging. The large muscular boy stood up, and the rest of the druggies clapped. That's when the other groups noticed, but they almost immediately went back to their own lives.

Gil, however, watched the scene unfold. The large guy grabbed the twitchy guy by the shirt. They were walking towards the back door, towards the outside. Gil knew that there would be violence to follow. Why else would they be going outside, where there were less witnesses? As always unnoticed, Gil left the table and he followed.

He was a bit nervous following him. Those two almost definitely did drugs. The larger of the two certainly was intimidating. He was just as scared about what would happen to him as he was about what would happen to the twitchy nervous looking guy. Gil rarely watched the druggies, but he remembered that this one was the apparent leader. He was the type to do anything to maintain his position.

The two had stopped around the side of the school, near the basket ball nets. It was close to a bunch of trees, and Gil knew enough, to keep himself to hidden. He wanted to help, but he had no idea what he could do. This guy was dangerous, he knew. Another thing that he knew was that the large guy was angry with the twitchy guy.

Gil didn't know what he could do, so he merely listened. "You said you had the money", the guy snarled. He sounded as intimidating as he looked. The smaller guy shook even more frightened. His eyes darted from side to side, as if looking for an escape.

"I'll get it, I swear I will", said the smaller boy, who looked like he could be no more than Gil's own age. The larger guy didn't seem to want to take no for an answer. He reached into his large leather jacket for something. Gil knew what he was reaching for, a moment before he showed it.

The larger of the guys, the one who was angry, pulled out a gun. He recognized it immediately. He had done a lot of reading on various subjects, and guns was one of them. This guy was carrying a GLOCK 19, a fairly common gun for people to carry. Gil wanted to shout out, to say something, but he was paralyzed in fear.

It was strange the amount of fear a single piece of metal could inspire. That gun could carry 15 rounds of ammunition, meaning that if that guy had horrible aim, he would have a few chances. That type of gun has a 12mm slide and grip, making it easier to conceal. This type of gun was usually used by law enforcement and for home defense. It was clear that this guy would use it for much more malicious purposes.

He pointed the gun at the scrawny boy's chest. Gil could do nothing to prevent it. It all happened so quickly, and he knew that if he had done anything, that gun would be pointed at him. From about 5 feet away, the large intimidating guy pulled the trigger.

Gil saw, as if in slow motion, the bullet flying through the air and into the skinny boy's chest. The shooting victim's eyes widened and he fell to the ground. The larger on with the gun, which could be no more than 17, seemed to suddenly realize what he had done. Gil didn't even try to chase him. The injured one was his priority.

He ran to the boy lying on the ground. Blood was already flowing out of the wound, and pooling on the ground. Gil pressed two fingers on the left side of his neck, checking for his pulse. He felt it. It was faint, but still there. He needed to stop the bleeding. That was his first priority. If he did nothing, this guy could bleed to death.

Without thinking, he took of his sweater, and pressed it on the boy's wound. Applying pressure should stop the bleeding. His second priority was to call for help. If someone didn't call an ambulance, this boy could die.

"HELP! SOMEBODY PLEASE! ANYBODY! I NEED HELP!" Gil yelled at the top of his lungs. He didn't care how foolish he sounded. He needed someone to come running, and he needed it now. He heard footsteps running. A very beautiful girl and a handsome jock came running. Gil didn't even think to be nervous while talking to them. He was much too worried.

The boy and the girl's eyes widened as they saw the bleeding semi-conscious boy. "Call an ambulance, now!" Gil yelled. The popular kids didn't question him. The girl pulled out her phone, and began to dial. Gil ignored them as they spoke, and turned his attention to the victim. The boy was loosing blood fast. His breathing was shallow. He was no longer conscious.

"They'll be here in 5 minutes", said the boy. Gil looked down at the prone body on the ground. The victim didn't have five minutes, and Gil could tell. He had done all he could for him. The only thing left to do was to wait. Gil didn't have the heart to tell the guy who had called the ambulance what he knew.

Gil held the wounded boy in his arms, as his blood fell to the ground. The pretty girl who had come running was crying now. The boy, who Gil assumed to be her boyfriend, was holding her in his arms. He tried to keep his body elevated, but he knew it would do no good. Gil watched as the injured boy began to fade. He tried his hardest to keep the tears from falling.

A moment later, which seemed to last a life time. The boy was dead. Gil let the hot wet tears fall freely now. He didn't really care who saw. This boy was dead now. And it was all his fault. He wasn't the one who pulled the trigger, but he might as well have. He hadn't even known this boys name. When this boy had been walking the line between life and death, Gil had been the only one able to help him. He had failed.

Gently, he placed the dead boy's head on the ground. He heard sirens in the distance, gradually getting closer. The popular boy and girl were running ahead to meet the police cars and ambulance that had arrived. Gil knew he should get up to. He didn't, for he couldn't leave the dead boy alone.

He didn't want to have to face the police, who were sure to question him. All he could feel was the hot burning guilt that was pressing on his chest. There was no escaping it. This was all his fault. The police were approaching him, as were the paramedics. Without really thinking about it, he got up.

He watched the scene before him as if it were in slow motion. The police swarmed around the scene, looking very business like. Caution tape seemed to immediately appear around the basket ball nets. Gil looked to the cafeteria door. He was surprised that no one had heard the shots, and come outside.

There were also paramedics. At first they all swarmed around the unknown body. They were yelling things to each other, none of which Gil heard. Gil wasn't very aware of anything they said. Listening wasn't important anymore. The only thing that mattered was that a boy was dead. There were so many things that he could have done differently. If only he had been smarter…if only he had been calmer…then this boy might not have died.

He only heard one thing that they said. "Male, teen, pronounced dead at 1:17 p.m."

He moved away from the body, and all of the commotion. Gil found a concrete slab a little ways around the school, in the parking lot. He sat down, and held his face in his hands. He tried to block out all that had just happened. Gil would give anything just to forget about it. He couldn't though. If he were to close his eyes, to block out his clear view of the police, or to cover his ears to block out the noise, he still wouldn't forget.

Gil rarely cried. He tried not to. He didn't like people to see him cry. Now, he was already crying. Because of him, someone was dead. Never would he forget that. Never would he forget the horrible feeling that he had cause a death. That didn't stop him from trying to block it all out. Gil shut his eyes tight, trying to stem the flow of tears. Tears still fell liberally down his cheeks.

Through shut eyes, he could still see the blue red lights of the ambulance and police cars. He felt light years away from the dead boy, and yet it was only feet. He could hear the vague noises of police speak mere feet away from him. He knew that they would come and question him. The two who had called for help were sure to mention him.

Over and over again, Gil tried to rehearse what he was going to say in his head. It didn't really work. Every time Gil even tried to think of what happened, he would feel new tears form in the corners of the eyes. His head wiped around as he heard footsteps. An older man in a sharp suit was approaching him. He had to want to talk to him. He was the only one around.

Gil didn't look up until the police officer was practically beside him. "Good afternoon young man. My name is Nathan Milton. I work for the Marina Del Ray Crime Lab as a crime scene investigator. Would it be okay if I asked you some questions?" asked the man that Gil thought was a police officer.

Nathan Milton had flashed him an ID with a shiny gold badge attached. So this man wasn't a police officer. He was still going to ask him questions that he dreaded answering. Whatever this man could possibly ask him, it would be painful to answer. To avoid questions about what he had seen and heard, Gil decided to ask a question of his own.

"What exactly do you do?" Gil asked. He had never really understood what it was that a crime scene investigator did.

"Well young man", said the crime scene investigator thoughtfully. He sat down and folded his hands in his lap. "What I do is collect evidence. I process this evidence so that it speaks to me. It tells me how a crime occurred."

Gil nodded, as he listened. Despite the enormous amount of guilt that seemed to enclose him, he found himself interested. He still dreaded the questions to come, and he dreaded reliving what he had seen, and yet he found himself fascinated by this man. For a moment, he considered what would happen if he refused to tell this man what he had seen. In his head, he tried to rehearse how he would answer the man's questions.

As it turned out, Mr. Milton didn't need to ask any questions. Gil didn't know what it was, but there was something that made Gil trust him. Perhaps it was his friendly nature, or the fact that he wasn't really pressuring him to say anything. Without really knowing what he was saying, Gil told the CSI everything.

As he spoke, he saw everything he had seen flash before his eyes once again. It took everything he had to stop himself from crying. Mr. Milton didn't say anything as Gil spoke. He just sat there and listened. Gil described everything he had seen in very accurate detail. He tried to keep the emotion out of his voice, but every once in a while, his voice shook ever so slightly.

Gil didn't find the blood or the bullets the most disturbing thing he had seen this afternoon. What he knew would haunt him forever, was that look in the young boy's eyes in the last moments of his life. He had seen terror in that boy's eyes. The boy knew his life was going to end, and his eyes pleaded for someone to help. Gil could have helped, but he didn't.

Mr. Milton took notes as Gil spoke. When Gil finished, the CSI looked thoughtful. "Thank you for your help son. None of this was your fault." Then the old man got up, and left Gil all alone.

_None of this was your fault. _

Gil replayed those words in his head over and over again. There was no way he could see any truth in them. In fact, Gil didn't see a way that it couldn't be his fault. He could have helped and he didn't. A boy was dead because of what he had done…or more precisely, what he hadn't done. Any way he looked at it, he had as good as taken a life.

The guilt was so immense, that it was almost too much to bear. Gil was determined not to cry. He remembered, as if from a different life, what one of the mean boys at school had said, soon after his father's death. "Big boys don't cry." For a very long time he had believed it. For a very long time, that was why he didn't let other people see his tears. That wasn't his reason anymore.

Gil had enough of all the crying. He wanted to be happy. Even if he wanted to, he didn't think that he could cry anymore. It was as if he had cried all the tears he had, and there was no more left. His throat felt very dry from all of the tears. He couldn't sit here for ever and wallow in self pity. He wouldn't do that anymore.

He slowly got up, and made his way around the front of the school. He reminded himself over and over again that there were other people to blame. The guy who had pulled the trigger came to mind instantly. He was the one who had really taken a life. He was the one with blood on his hands. Another thing responsible was the drugs. If they didn't do drugs, the victim wouldn't have been so desperate, and he wouldn't have gotten involved with people such as the one who held the gun.

Gil managed a very small smile. There more he though about it, the more he realized that it really wasn't his fault. Despite that realization, he couldn't let go of the tiny shred of guilt that stayed with him. He knew that he would forever wonder how things would turn out if he had done something differently, if he had just spoken up. He didn't think he would ever stop wondering.

As a scientist, he always to try and understand things. He wanted to know how things worked, and why things happened the way they did. Death was one thing he would never understand.

**TBC...**


	6. The Day of the True Love

**Chapter 6: The Day of the True Love**

****

**A/N: This is my longest chapter ever! I am so proud of it. It's the only chapter that isn't sad...and full of cotton candy fluff. I'm in the writing zone! There are plot bunnies in my head, all of which are breeding. Expect more updates in the near future. Enjoy!**

Gil's experience so close to death during his freshman year had had a profound change on him. It had matured him, and caused him to see the world much more differently. For one thing, he didn't put off doing things any more. He helped more around the house with no complaint. As his mother suggested, he tried to loosen up a little more and have fun.

He tried to be more involved in things. If he must be forced to go to school, he didn't want to have a horrible time going there. Gil was now a proud member of the math club, the chess team and the golf club. It took his mind off of what was happening in every other aspect of his life. He spent much of his classes staring out the window, wishing he was anywhere but there.

Things at home were rarely any better. His mother was a great person, and she did the best that she could, but it was never enough. Mrs. Grissom was completely deaf now, and that limited her independence greatly. She only communicated in sign, which greatly limited the jobs she could do. It was necessary for her to work, just for them to have enough to eat. Gil offered to take a job, but his mother wouldn't hear of it.

On the rare time when he wasn't worrying about his family finances, he had other things to worry about. Things weren't going to well with his friends from the science club. He was just too different from them now. At first, they had been very similar. Gil had changed, and his friends…they just hadn't. There was much more to life than science, and he wished the ones he still called friends could see that.

Gil was 16 now, and not much had changed. At the same time, everything was different. He didn't worry as much about doing well as he used to. He knew now that there were much more important things to worry about. He also had the coolest part time job that he told no one about, and he planned to keep it that way. It wasn't what one would call a conventional job, but Gil really enjoyed it.

On some weekends, and after school, Gil worked part time for the coroner's office. He didn't do what you would expect of a part time high school student. He actually got to do autopsies! They weren't autopsies of people or anything. The coroner let him autopsy cats and dogs that he didn't want to do himself. Some people might think that it was really gross. Gil found it wonderful. He had found his calling.

Gil would spend each day waiting anxiously for the time he got to go to work. It was what he focused on all week. At work, he was normal. His curiosity about the reasons behind death was not mocked at work. Quite the contrary, it was encouraged. That was the first place that Gil found where he really fit in.

The work wasn't the only reason that Gil liked coming to the coroner's office. The work was very fun and rewarding, but work wasn't the only rewarding thing. The other people who worked at the coroner's office were all very nice. Gil liked one in particular. When he first accepted the job, he hadn't expected people his own age to be there.

Apparently, the coroner employed other high school students part time. Well, only one other high school student by the name of Sara. She mostly just filled paperwork and answered phones. She was the only girl, pretty much ever, who had been nice to him. Sara would always smile brightly at him, and try and strike up a conversation about safe topics such as school.

Gil knew that she wanted to be his friend. That shocked him to no end. Sara was so pretty and confident. Girls like that usually avoided him. Fleetingly, he considered asking her on a date. The minute the thought entered his head, he dismissed it. No matter how hard he tried, he never forgot the first and last time he asked a girl out.

Sara was only to be working with him for another week. She had only taken this job for a very short time. If Gil were ever to do something, it would have to be now. He wouldn't have another chance. All day long he had been debating with himself. To ask, or not to ask. That was the most difficult question of them all.

Sara was…well, there was no other word for it…intimidating. She was a very nice person, always nice to him. That just made everything all the more difficult. On her last day, and on what was to be his last chance, Gil seriously considered letting her leave with nothing more than a hug.

He was working for four hours that Saturday, as was she. The whole time, he wasn't really thinking of the dead cat or bird that he was supposed to be examining. It was very irresponsible of him, but his internal debate continued even then. Gil supposed that he should be paying attention to his work, but Sara was the only thing that filled his mind.

He saw only her bright blue eyes, and crooked smile. During their shared break, she sat next to him, and made friendly conversation. She was so easy to talk to, and yet it was so hard to ask what he wanted to ask. His palms got sweaty even thinking about asking her to go out with him. Gil rarely got nervous, but he was very nervous now. He was sure he was shaking, and he wondered why Sara didn't notice.

The sound of Sara's voice brought him back to reality. "So Gil, what do you think?" she asked. Great, she was talking to him. He hadn't been listening. He didn't know what to say. Gil was really panicking now. He could open up with Sara. He could tell her things that he had told no one else. She liked roller coasters and science. She was his match. So why was it so hard to ask a simple question?

"You make me nervous."

The moment Gil said it; he clapped his hands over his mouth. His cheeks were burning and he was sure they were bright red. Sara pushed her long brown hair behind her ear, something she only did when she was nervous. Gil didn't understand why she would still be nervous.

"P…pardon me?" Sara asked. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Sara was always so kind, even in awkward situations such as this. If possible, Gil turned even redder. Gil knew he had to answer, and he had to do some quick thinking. He wanted nothing more than too impress her. He didn't think he could ever impress anyone. He wasn't a very impressing person.

Once again, he found himself speaking without thinking. "When I'm with you, I can be myself. You make me happier than I have ever been. It's more than just that. I love making you happy. I love when you laugh, when you smile…" He had never meant to say anything of the sort to her. It all just sort of came tumbling out.

There was a single moment of awkward silence that seemed to contain eternity. If he had a mirror, he would be the colour of a tomato. Finally, after the excruciating silence, Sara spoke. "Me too", she said softly.

That was all she said, but her words sent shivers down Gil's spine. Whatever he could have imagined her saying, it was nothing close to this. Gil didn't feel like anyone could feel about him how he felt about Sara. To say he was shocked would be an understatement. He was so surprised that he could barely string two words together.

"Um…that's…cool. I mean…well…what I wanted to say was…" Gil said. He stopped, and bit his tongue. It seemed he had forgotten how to speak. He wished he could just disappear. His cheeks, if possible, burned even hotter. He couldn't believe what he had just said.

Sara smiled, showing him all of her perfect white teeth. That was one of the things Gil liked about her. She was always happy, always smiling. Her blue eyes twinkled, as she smiled. He was still nervous, but Sara had a way of making him feel totally at ease. Gil found himself smiling with her. "I understand", Sara said, smiling.

Relief washed over him. This was requiring much less words than he had thought it would. That was a good thing. Where words were involved, Gil tended to make a fool of himself. There was still one thing that really couldn't go without being said. Gil would like nothing more than to go on a date with Sara. The only way that would happen was if he were to ask her.

Gil took a deep calming breath. He had to go for it. If he didn't say anything, he knew that he would regret it. After this, it was doubtful that he would ever have another chance. For a moment, he considered just leaving. Gil seriously considered not saying anything more. He almost did it, but then he remembered his motto.

He had discovered this motto, right after the shooting in his freshman year. It was Carpe Diem. It meant seize the day. That was one thing that he really believed. What he wanted to do, he tried to do it the day it occurred to him. It was wrong to put things off until tomorrow. There might not even be a tomorrow. That thought got rid of all his fear.

"Will you go out with me? On a date", said Gil. He said this all very quickly, as if it would be less painful that way. He waited anxiously for her answer.

She smiled at him, which Gil chose to take as a good sign. "Sure!" she said brightly. Gil had to stop himself from sighing audibly with relief. Sara was finished eating. Gil hadn't touched his food. He had nearly forgotten it was lunch time. Sara tended to drive things like that completely from his mind.

As Sara got up from the table, Gil began to panic. "Wait!" he yelled. He wasn't even sure what he wanted her to wait for. She stopped and turned to face him. What he wanted to say to her, even he did not know. She smiled at him. Her smile seemed to tell him that she understood.

"Meet me at Thompson Park for noon on Saturday. We can have lunch again", she said. She walked around the desk they were sitting at and picked up a blue pen. On the back of his sweating hand, she wrote a seven digit number. "Call me", she said with a wink. With that, she was out the door.

Gil was flabbergasted. He was speechless. It was time to get back to work, but there was no way he could concentrate. Thoughts of the date flooded his mind. By the time the hour and a half he had left to work was done, he had imagined hundreds of things that could go wrong. Gil was more petrified than he had ever been. He was so scared that he would say something stupid.

To try and prevent this, he tried to decide before hand what they would talk about. He would ask her about herself. If he tried to talk about himself, he ended up sounding stupid. It would be better to stick to listening. The hours he had to work flied by surprisingly fast.

He always walked home after work. It gave him a chance to reflect, and think things through. Today, all he thought about was Sara. He wondered what she had planned, for she was the one who had arranged the date. Some guys might find that off putting, but Gil loved Sara's straight forwardness. He still had no idea what she saw in him.

Gil was so lost in though, that he wasn't paying attention to where he was going. He almost walked passed his house. Luckily, he realized where he was, a moment before it was too late. He walked through the front door. While he walked, he whistled a cheery tune. All the while, he had a smile on his face.

His mother, who was waiting for him, noticed his happiness. She didn't question where he was. Gil never told her, and he never planned to. It was just something he would like to keep for himself. His mother trusted him. Especially since she had gone deaf, though, she had become very perceptive. Gil suspected that she knew where he worked, although she would never let on.

"What are you so happy about?" Mrs. Grissom signed.

"I've just had a good day", Gil signed back. He walked up to his room, with a little spring in his step. Marybeth Grissom watched her son disappear into his room with a smile on her face. She hadn't seen him that happy in a long time…not since his father died…

When in his room, Gil's feelings of happiness quickly evaporated. He was happy to be going on a date with Sara that was sure. His nervousness far outweighed his joy. It would be so easy for him to say something wrong, or do something stupid. There were a million things that could go wrong. Half of them, he couldn't control.

Gil sure had a lot to think about. He would have a lot of things to think about for the next 48 hours or so, until his date was over. He looked at the digital clock in his room. An hour had already passed since he got home. Now seemed like an appropriate time to call Sara. He looked at the back of his hand, only to find it smudged with ink. It was all because of his stupid sweaty hands.

Now he didn't know what he was going to do. He was panicking. He didn't know where she lived, he didn't know her number. He had no way to contact her before their date. Should he still go? Would she be mad that he hadn't called? These thoughts ran through his head at break neck speeds, while he decided what to do.

Finally, he decided that it would be much better if he went on the date. Sara would sure be much angrier if he stood her up. He had to go now, no matter how nervous he felt. There was no possible way that he could cancel.

The majority of the next two days were spent worrying about the date that could come. Gil had no idea what to expect. He had never been on a real date before. It wasn't even him who had made the plans. He didn't have much control of how things would turn out. Gil didn't like not having any control.

That wasn't what worried Gil the most, though. What worried him was the extremely large chance that he would do or say something stupid. He would embarrass himself in front of Sara, and she would never want to speak to him again. He wasn't even very sure why she would want to speak with him in the first place.

He sort of wished that Sara had told him why she was interested in him. When he wasn't worrying (which was rare) he wondered what someone like Sara could possibly like about someone like him. It wasn't that he was ugly or anything. In fact, compared to a lot of the other boys, Gil was quite good looking.

What he lacked was the confidence, and the charisma, that the popular boys had. When he tried to speak to girls that he was even the least bit interested in, he was reduced to a blubbering mess. He found it easy to talk to girls that he liked only as friends. When he talked to Sara, he always felt nervous.

Whatever her reason, which Gil still couldn't imagine, it was now a sure thing that she liked him. That was a certainty now. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Sometimes, when he doubted himself the most, he would think that it was all just a dream. He had no way of confirming their date. When he doubted himself the most, it was difficult to keep his hope that everything would turn out okay.

When Friday rolled around, Gil was a nervous wreck. He had started counting down until what he referred to as "TBD". That stood for the big date. He had spent all week anticipating this date. He both dreaded it and looked forward to it. When the "three hours until TBD" point arrived, Gil figure that he should take care of a few last minute details. He needed to tie up all of the loose ends.

The most difficult of his remaining decisions was the decision of what to wear. Normally, Gil didn't care what he wore. He just picked up the first clean thing he found and put it on. It didn't require any thought at all. Today, he spent an unusual amount of time on his wardrobe. Finally, he decided on his prized bell bottom pants, and a tie died shirt he had made the summer before. It was cool, yet sophisticated. In other words, it was perfect.

He looked at the clock on the wall when he had finally put on his clothes. It was already 11:30. He had to wash his face and leave very soon, if he wanted to be there on time. In fifteen minutes, he was rushing to the door. He said a hurried goodbye to his mother, and he was off. The big date was upon him.

He had opted to walk to the park, rather than be driven. All he had told his mother was that he was going to meet his friend at the park. At least that was technically true. Gil just couldn't imagine being shut up in a car with his mother, while she asked him her customary questions about where he was going and what he was doing. Despite the fact that he was technically old enough, Gil did not yet have his driver's license. He just kept failing the darn test.

The walk to the park wasn't particularly long, but Gil had plenty to think about. He didn't even know how he would find Sara when he got there. Thompson Park was a fairly big park. As it turned out, he needn't have worried about finding her. When he arrived, he spotted her instantly. She was sitting at a picnic table, looking around contentedly.

As always, at least in Gil's opinion, she looked stunning. She had tied her long dark hair in a loose knot on the back of her head. She was dressed to perfection, from her pink poncho to her beaded jeans. Sara had a way of looking so pulled together, and at the same time, casual. Gil was mesmerized by it.

Sara spotted him standing there. He was staring at her as if he had been struck over the head. "Hi Gil!" she said brightly, "Come one over." She always sounded so happy when she spoke. Gil walked over, and he sat on the picnic bench, across from her. Once again, Gil seemed to have lost the ability to speak. Sara did that to him.

He thought he'd better say something, since he didn't want to look like a complete idiot. "Um…you look…nice…really nice," he stammered. Great, he'd ended up sounding like an idiot anyways. That hadn't come out the way it sounded in his head. In his head, it had sounded nicer.

Sara smiled widely at him. It was the smile he felt was reserved especially for him; the one that made his heart melt. "Thanks", she said with a small giggle, "You look great too." Gil looked down at his own clothes, and suddenly, he felt very underdressed. The silence came again. Silence between them made Gil very uncomfortable, as if he was doing something wrong, but Sara looked totally at ease.

Gil's date always knew the right thing to say. "So, how are things going with you at school?" she asked kindly. The conversation they had carried on for several minutes. Gil felt his initial terror gradually begin to fade. Sara made him feel totally at ease. He forgot that he was in a beautiful park surrounded by trees. He forgot that he was with a beautiful and confident girl. The only thought that filled his mind was that he was talking with someone he really cared about.

The characteristic rumble in his stomach told him that he was hungry, and it was lunchtime. He was also very stupid. Their date was for noon. Of course there would be some food involved. The people who called him smart knew nothing about him. "Um…Sara…" he began. His terror had returned.

Miraculously, Sara had come prepared. She was the type to think of obvious things, such as food. Sara pulled out a picnic basket from beneath her seat that Gil had not previously noticed. It was full of sandwiches, water bottles, fruit and cookies. Gil smiled gratefully as hers. For the umpteenth time, Gil lost the function of his voice. He meant to say thank you or something to that effect, but the words got lost on the way to his mouth.

Sara apparently didn't need any thanks. She told him to dig in and he graciously accepted. He chewed his peanut butter sandwich thoughtfully. His throat felt strangely dry, and it had nothing to do with the peanut butter. He had no idea what it was, but perhaps he had something to do with the warm fuzzy feeling he got whenever he was in Sara's presence.

Ever so slowly, normal conversation returned. Sara knew exactly what to say to make him feel completely at ease. He didn't have to think, or worry, when he was talking with her. Gil could be totally himself with her. She was one of the few people with which that was possible.

Neither of them noticed it, at least not consciously, but as they talked, something changed. The change was subtle, but there was no denying it was there. Both of them had started the sunny Saturday as friends going to the same place at the same time. Gil had hoped that it would become something more. Honestly, that thought hadn't even crossed Sara's mind. She just thought Gil was a great friend, at least at first.

As they continued to talk, Sara saw Gil in a whole new light. She had always thought he was kind of cute, but when they talked, he suddenly became stunning. They stopped being two separate people from two separate worlds. They were like two halves of an undefined whole. When they talked together, they didn't feel only joy, but an odd sort of completeness.

They paused to enjoy the chocolate chip cookies that Sara's mother had made. Gil looked at his watch for the first time the entire date. He was amazed at how quickly the time had passed. Nothing horribly wrong had happened, and Gil had had a reasonably good time. This date thing wasn't as horrible as he had expected. In fact, it was positively wonderful. Just by looking at Sara, he could tell that she felt the same way. Her light blue eyes were filled with laughter. Her wide smile was there throughout the entire time.

She too looked at her watch. It was already 3:30 p.m. They had been chatting amicably and eating their ways through Sara's food for 3 and a half hours. Neither of them wanted the date to end. However, as all good things had to end, this date had to end as well. Gil had to work at four. Although they both worked at the same place, their shifts didn't always overlap. Also, Sara didn't work their anymore.

"I have work soon", Gil said with a frown. He looked really disappointed. Sara nodded, for she knew all this already. He felt a bit depressed, for the best time of his life was truly coming to an end. He didn't know whether or not he would see Sara again. The only way he could possibly see her again was if he would ask her on another date. He didn't know if he had enough courage to do that.

Sara got up and brushed the dust off her jeans. She knew that they both had to leave. She had some sort of dance class she had to get to as well. Gil never wanted the date to end. "Wait!" he yelled, as Sara prepared to leave. She turned to look at him. Gil turned a brilliant shade of red. He felt his cheeks burn. He hadn't really planned what he would say next.

" Do you want to go out with me? Again? On a date somewhere?" he asked quickly. He seemed to stumble over his words. Once again, that didn't come out exactly the way he planned. However, it wasn't too bad.

Sara stared at him for a moment that contained eternity. She was considering all of her possibilities. Finally, she said, "I'd love too!" Gil's grin was so broad, that it looked like it would split his face in two. Sara, as if sensing his mistake, took a pen out of her purse, and wrote her name and number clearly on a paper napkin. She also may have noticed that he hadn't called.

Gil took the napkin, and shoved it into the pockets of his jeans. Sara continued to leave again. Gil didn't want her to go. "Wait!" he yelled again. She stopped. He had no idea why he told her to wait. Gil got up as well. They locked eyes. Something about their gaze was much more meaningful then anything either of them could say. They had each found someone who understood, someone with whom they could share everything.

They held each other's gaze for a moment. Thoughts meant nothing anymore. It was their feelings that guided them. If Gil had thought at all about what he was going to do, he wouldn't have done it. In tandem, his and Sara's faces inched closer to each other. He gently held her head. Their lips met.

It was soft and gentle. The kiss lasted only a fleeting moment, but for Gil, it felt like a blissful lifetime. It was a moment of pure happiness, unlike any Gil had ever experienced. The kiss was like magic. Reluctantly, they broke apart. Sara's eyes glistened with tears, as did Gil's. They were happy tears.

"I love you Gil", Sara said suddenly. He studied her for a moment. He realized that he felt the same way. He had finally identified that warm fuzzy feeling he had felt.

"I love you too", he said. He sounded stunned by his own words. When he said them, however, they were true. They both turned in opposite directions to leave. Gil felt on top of the world.

He touched his lips softly. Gil realized that he had just had his first kiss ever. It was wonderful…


	7. The Day that He Gave Up

**Chapter 7: The Day He Gave Up**

**A/N: Wow, this took much longer than I expected. I think this chapter is very good, but too bad it's still sad. I hope you guys like it. This chapter is dedicated to the two people who reviewed the last chapter. If you haven't reviewed, please do so. Although I asked for it for my birthday, I still don't own CSI.**

Gil felt as though he could barely remember the last time he had been home. The University of California, where he was a freshman, was not incredibly far from his home. His visits were still limited. At home all he had was his mother, and they didn't talk much anymore. As the Christmas season approached, Gil began to feel a little guilty.

His mother was all alone all day long. Now that she was pretty much completely deaf, there weren't really many people she could talk to. Gil felt guilty for leaving his mother to a life like that, where she had no one. It was difficult to think of her as much as he ought to. School kept him very busy, not to mention the surprising aspect of a social life that university brought to him.

The days of being invisible like he was in high school were long gone. Suddenly it was cool to be knowledgeable. He took in lectures by day, and studied at the local body farm by night. He was sharing my room with Eugene from high school, and this really quiet guy named Nate. Both of them were great. His long time girlfriend, Sara, went to the same university too, so they saw each other quite often.

This was the perfect life. It was the way he had always wanted it to be. There was only one thing missing; a family. The only family he had was his mother. His mother had been an only child whose parents were long dead. His father's parents had died too, and his father's older brother had died when Gil was very young. He craved for a real family.

That's why he resolved to visit his mother this Christmas. Eugene and Nate were having a party with a couple of other guys in their dorm. Gil planned to spend a quiet Christmas at home with his mother. He couldn't exactly call her, since she was deaf. Instead, he had written a letter. She had replied rather quickly, almost too eagerly. He would spend 5 days of his break with his mother, and he'd make them count.

Christmas spirit was in the air. Gil couldn't turn around without seeing some tinsel or a Christmas tree. He had already bought presents for the Sara and they guys in his dorm the week before. He would be going to his mother's house later that day, and he still hadn't bought her a present. It wasn't as if he hadn't tried. Marybeth Grissom was very hard to shop for.

Nothing that he had seen had been just right. None of the clothes he had seen would look nice on his mother. She was not really the perfume type, nor was she the flower type. For hours, he had searched every store in the mall. He had even asked his friends for advice. He wanted to get something great for his mother. He wanted it to be something she really loved.

Gil couldn't really remember anything that his mother liked. Since his father had died, Gil didn't even remember his mother truly happy. There was one thing that his mother believed that remained constant during that time. His mother always made it a priority for them to attend church every Sunday. Gil didn't really think his mother believed in much anymore, but the church was one thing in which she still truly believed.

Throughout his childhood, he remembered going to church services, first with both his parents, then with only his mother. His childhood days at church were spent being fretfully bored. When his father had gone, he would occasionally look at Gil and wink. It was as if they shared their own private joke. His mother, on the other hand, always paid attention. She truly believed in everything Father Michael was saying. When thinking of his childhood at church, he knew exactly what to buy her.

He had seen the perfect gift for her at a small antique jewelry shop. He returned there to buy it. It was a plain silver necklace sitting on a purple cushion. It had an ornate silver cross dangling from the center. One look at it told him that his mom would love it. Without a second thought, Gil bought it, and he went home.

His mother was overjoyed when she saw him. Mrs. Grissom wrapped him into a hug, and started a very rapid sign language conversation. Gil didn't talk to his mother that much any more, so he thought he would be a little out of practice. However, he kept up with his mother's hand movements. She asked him about school and about Sara. He answered her obediently.

She welcomed him in and he walked into her very well decorated house. There were garlands and holly strung everywhere. Mistletoe was hung randomly around the house. The most magnificent thing of all was the Christmas tree. It was enormous, nearly scraping the ceiling. The tree glittered because of the hundreds of lights and ornaments strung over it. On the top of the tree there was an angel that Gil remembered from when he was a child. Underneath the tree were a good number of presents.

His mother ushered him to the dinner table which was laden with food. It was the most delicious meal that Gil had had in a while. There was a marvelous turkey, mashed potatoes, a variety of vegetables… The conversation at dinner was pleasant, although a bit awkward. Gil and his mother just didn't have much to talk about anymore.

They mostly concentrated on eating their food. Occasionally they would look up from their plates and sign a few words to each other. Gil was quick to compliment his mother on the food. As a whole, the meal didn't go as badly as Gil had expected. He was beginning to get a warm feeling that had nothing to do with how full he was. It was nice, being here like this with his mother. She may be the only family he had, but she was great.

After dinner they had dessert, which was also delicious. They were finished eating quite quickly. Gil knew what came after dinner. It was time for them to each choose one present to open before Christmas day tomorrow. He didn't know why they did it. It was just a tradition of theirs. Gil used to love this time. It was the time he looked forward to most as a child. After his father had died, he didn't look forward to it so much anymore.

The thrill of getting a present still was their. He had experienced a shock when he woke up the first Christmas morning without his father to find a present addressed to his father under the tree. He didn't mention it, because he thought that maybe his mother had bought his father the present before he died or something. That year he didn't mention a thing as the wrapping paper from that gift was strewn all over the floor and the sweater my mother had bought was hanging neatly in the closet.

The same thing continued to happen, year after year. There would always be a present with his father's name on it under the tree. On Christmas day, the wrapping would be all over the living room, and the sweater or whatever it was would be neatly put away. Every year Gil hoped that it would be different, but it never was. Just as he expected, among the various presents addressed to his mother and him, there was a present for his father.

Gil wanted to mention it to his mother, he had really intended to. When he saw the look on his mother's face as they opened the present, he couldn't bring himself to do it. It had been a very long time since he had seen his mother this happy. It wasn't her presents that were bringing her the most joy. Every time he opened one of his presents, her face would light up with happiness. It was the fact that they were together that she really cherished this Christmas Eve.

Gil anxiously awaited his mother's reaction to the present he had bought her. She delicately undid the ribbon on the rich purple box. Her eyes were alight with joy as she saw what was in the box. Her face broke into a very large smile. "_Thank you Gil, it's beautiful", _she signed to him. She put it on, and it shone against her dark red dress.

"_It was nothing_", Gil signed back blushing. He liked that his mother liked the present.

The phone rang while they were enjoying some Christmas cookies. "_I'll get it_", Gil signed getting up. He picked up the phone and said, "Hello?"

"Is there a Gil Grissom there?" an official, stern sounding voice said.

"Speaking", he said. A lump formed in his throat. He didn't know who would be calling for him here.

"My name is doctor Sheppard. I'm calling from Tamales Bay General Hospital to tell you that we have a Ms. Sara Jones here and she's listed you as her emergency contact…"

Gil didn't need to listen anymore. He slammed down the receiver, and in moments he was at the door with his coat in his hand. He thought of nothing except Sara. If something horrible had happened to her…he didn't know what he'd do. After a bit of thought, he realized he should have let the doctor finished.

Sara could have merely broken her arm, or she could be in a coma. Or it could be much worse. She could be…he didn't want to say it. In his rush to get to the hospital, he had nearly forgotten about his mother. Quickly, he rushed to the living room to see his mother sitting their waiting for him.

"_Um…mom", _he signed hesitantly, "_I'm sorry but I really need to go. Sara's in the hospital and I need to see her." _Gil held back the tears that were threatening to erupt from his eyes.

"It's okay", his mother said. She rarely spoke anymore, so Gil was shocked to hear her voice. She pulled him into a warm hug. She knew that it was exactly what he needed at the moment.

Gil had taken his mother's car without asking. He knew that she wouldn't mind. As he sped down the road, his mind unwillingly wandered to all the horrible things that could have happened. Sara could be in pain, she could be dying. She had wanted him there, and he would get there as quickly as possible.

He was probably breaking the speed limit, and he didn't care. The only important thing was getting to the hospital as soon as possible. Because of the fact that he was speeding, what was once a fifteen minute drive became a five minute one. Those five minutes seemed to last a lifetime.

He quickly parked in the hospital parking lot and ran through the emergency room doors. Gil ran to a harassed looking woman at the information desk. "I'm looking for Sara Jones. I'm Gil Grissom. I was told she would be here", he said in a single breath. The woman looked at him tiredly. She checked a few clipboards scattered across her desk.

"Sara Jones, room 318, intensive care unit", the woman said in a bored voice.

Gil hurriedly thanked to the woman, and ran down the hall. He ran at breakneck speed. He couldn't stand waiting for the elevator, so instead he ran up three flights of stairs. Room 318 was an extremely isolated one. He was going to burst in the door and demand to see if Sara was alright. What he saw through the window of her room stopped him in his tracks.

Sara's pale unconscious form was lying in a hospital bed. The only thing was she didn't really look like Sara anymore. Her dark brown hair was fanned out on the bed. Her face was abnormally pale and was covered with blood and bruises. Attached to every inch of her body were wires and tubes. Beside her bed were constantly beeping machines.

He lingered at the door of Sara's room. It was much more difficult than he thought to go in. It was hard to see Sara like this. The normally bright and cheerful person she was was gone. It was replaced by a shell of a person who wasn't really there. A handsome young doctor approached him from the opposite end of the hall.

"Gilbert Grissom?" the doctor asked, checking his chart. Gil nodded mutely. "We spoke on the phone? My name is doctor Sheppard. There's no easy way for me to say this…" Gil's stomach fell into his feet. It wasn't a good sign when a doctor said there was no easy way for him to say something. The doctor continued.

"There was a car accident involving your girlfriend Sara. Her car was hit on the driver's side by a drunk driver. I'm afraid she's suffered some pretty extensive damage..." The doctor said. Gil felt as if his blood had turned to ice. The rest of the doctor's speech seemed very far away and somehow muffled.

Gil caught the strange and foreboding word here and there. He heard subdural hematoma…internal hemorrhaging…and words he couldn't even make out. They meant nothing to him. All he understood was Sara was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.

He couldn't believe it was happening. It was supposed to be Christmas Eve; the happiest time of the year. Gil felt nothing but misery. The hospital was decorated for the holidays, perhaps to get patients in the festive spirit. It wasn't even close to working. Gil didn't even want to imagine how Sara would be feeling…if she was even feeling. Gil heard the doctor say something about brain injuries. That didn't sound good.

Doctor Sheppard had left him alone standing in the hallway. The doctor said that he could go see Sara…but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was afraid, and he wasn't really sure what he was afraid of. It could be that if he went closer to Sara, if he were actually to touch her, everything would become all the more real. As long as he couldn't touch her, he could stay in nice comfortable denial.

Slowly, very hesitantly, he pushed open the door to her room. It was worse than he remembered from the brief instant that he had looked in her room. It truly looked as if Sara wasn't there anymore. The body lying on the hospital bed was so badly beaten up, that it looked liked it didn't have a chance. His only comfort was the steady beeping of the dozens of monitors. As long as they kept beeping, Sara would be alright.

Gil knelt beside Sara's bed, and he did something he hadn't done in years. He prayed. He wasn't really sure exactly who or what he was praying to, but it was worth a try. "Please let her be okay. I know that I'm not a good Catholic, and I may not be the greatest person. I'm really sorry about that God. I just need her. I don't know how I'd live without her. Please let her be okay."

Gil looked up expectantly, as if he expected his prayers to somehow be answered. Instead, the steady beeping of the machines had stopped. They were replaced by eradic sounds that were sometimes fast and sometimes slow. Something was wrong. After barely a moment, it became a steady hum. The pulsating line became flat.

"I need a doctor!" Gil yelled in a panic, "HELP! SOMEBODY, ANYBODY!"

Five doctors came running. Gil was pushed backwards out of the room. He struggled to see what was happening. The doctors were crowded around Sara, so Gil couldn't see a thing. They were taking all sorts of notes, rushing around Sara, doing who knows what. All he could hear was the steady hum of the machine Sara was attached to.

Gil knew what that meant. Sara's heart wasn't beating. Someone could only live a matter of minutes without their heart pumping blood around their body. Gil heard the doctor say, "There's nothing we can do." Gil clutched his gut as if someone had punched him. This couldn't be happening, it just couldn't, he thought frantically.

"Time of death, 9:58 p.m.", said an over worked looking female doctor.

There was no denying it now. Sara was dead. There was nothing he could do. It was as if the whole word had ended in that moment. Sara had made him feel happier than he had ever been in his life. Gil had loved her, more than he had loved anyone ever before. That was all over now. He would never again feel what he had felt when he was with Sara. He might as well have died with Sara.

Looking at the group of doctors still huddled around Sara, Gil made a vow. Never again would he feel like he felt now. He felt as if his heart had been ripped out and thrown in the trash. All he wanted was for it to go away. The only way he would protect himself from feeling like this was if he would never love again. Sara would be the first and the last.

He made a promise to himself that he would never be hurt like that ever again. If that meant that he would never find true love again, so be it.


	8. The Day he Made a Bad Decision or Two

**Chapter 8: The Day he made a Bad Decision…or Two**

**A/N: Here is the second to last chapter. I hope you guys like it. I wasn't too fond of it, but I'd like you to tell me what to think. The next chapter has been planed since chapter 1. It's the day he became a CSI. After this, I'm starting a Sara/Grissom story. Despite my wishes, I still don't own CSI. Please enjoy!**

It was midnight on August 17, 1977. It wasn't really considered a special day for most people. Gil Grissom barely considered it special, although he really should have. It was the day of his twenty first birthdays, and he would like more than to have it pass unnoticed. His dream way to celebrate his birthday would be to curl up under his covers, and pretend he didn't exist.

Gil would like very much not to exist. He did not need another reminder of the fact that he was a total failure in every aspect of his life. Around campus, he was a known as somewhat a loner. It was a reputation that he had somewhat earned. He avoided forming relationships with new people. Ever since his girlfriend had died, it had been too painful. He didn't want to lose anyone else.

Gil would have been totally content to ignore his birthday. He was stressed enough as it was. He had no social life, no one to talk to and he wasn't doing as well as he had hoped in school. His roommates were always pushing him to find some action. The campus was pretty quiet right before classes started up again, so his roommates used his birthday as a perfect excuse to take him out.

It wasn't the going out that was the problem. He knew exactly where his roommates Eugene and Nate would take him. They had changed a lot over their years at college. They always wanted him to go and pick up girls with him. Gil didn't want any girls. He wanted Sara, but she was gone, and he had accepted that. For his 21st birthday, his friends were planning on taking him to a bar.

Theoretically, he didn't really have anything against bars. They were just places, after all. Nate and Eugene thought a bar would be a great place to pick up girls. Gil wasn't so sure. Bars were where you got alcohol, and alcohol made people do stupid things. He had never drunk alcohol himself, as until now, he was not legally able to do so. All he knew, he knew from his roommates' experiences.

His roommates didn't mind breaking the law and they drank occasionally. They even went to bars, using fake ids they had made themselves. Often, Gil thought of turning them in, but then he remembered that they were the only ones who even noticed him. That didn't mean that he wanted to join in their exploits.

Gil didn't much like the idea of stumbling into his room at 4 a.m., unable to see straight. The headaches his friends described after nights of partying were enough to turn him off alcohol forever. Another thing he didn't like was not being in total control of himself. Alcohol affected the brain, and Gil didn't like the thought of doing things he would not normally do.

It was what was expected of him, though. At twenty one, you were expected to take your first drink. That was just the way it was. He didn't really have much choice. As much as he tried to tell himself differently, he was afraid. He wasn't sure of what exactly. Maybe it was because he would like nothing better than to curl up in his bed and disappear. A sudden thought occurred to him that made him feel slightly better. He would do what his friends wanted him to do.

He would drink until he didn't remember why he was drinking anymore. Drowning his problems in a nice drink sounded wonderful right about now. Gil longed to forget, to numb his mind. The euphoria that came along with it was an added plus.

He got out of his bead. As usual, he was in the room along. Gil hoped that Eugene and Nate wouldn't be out yet. He went to the living room of the dormitory that they shared. Luckily, his roommates were there. They beamed when they saw him. He sat down next to him; exactly sure of what he was going to do.

" So, you decided that our idea was the best for your birthday bash?" Eugene asked, with a smile.

Gil took a deep breath. "Yup, so you guys leave the way."

Gil followed his roommates to Nate's car. Nate drove, and Gil and Eugene got in the back. Gil didn't know exactly what bar they were going to, but he didn't really care. As long as they had plenty of boos, it was good enough for him. They stopped in front of a dingy looking place called Kitty Cat. Gil didn't even want to ask about the name.

They got out, and walked in confidently. Gil figured that they went here all the time. The big burly guy guarding the door didn't even ask them for any identification. He did ask Gil, however. Gil didn't really look twenty one. If you asked someone how old he was, they might guess seventeen.

When Gil showed the security guard his ID, the guy smiled, and said gruffly, "Happy birthday kid."

He nodded in acknowledgement and walked inside. The Kitty Cat was a very busy place. There were people everywhere, talking and laughing. Loud music was blaring, and some people were dancing. It was less of a bar, and more of a club. Gil was reminded of exactly why he would have preferred to stay home.

Eugene had already ushered him to the bar, and told him to sit. First nervously looking around him, Gil sat down. Eugene ordered him a drink that he hadn't even heard of. His friend at least seemed to be having a good time. He sat there with the drink in his hands. He thought it was a rum and coke. What it was didn't really matter though.

He stared at the brown colored liquid for a while without drinking. The ice cubes sat there, and he stirred them around with a straw. Suddenly he wondered what the hell he was doing. "Come on!" said Nate emphatically. He was already well into his own drink. "You're actually legal now. Live a little!"

The atmosphere at the club seemed to sway a little. It was all a blur of sound and colour. The drink sitting in front of him looked a little more appealing. He picked it up and paused with it in front of his lips. Hesitantly, he took a sip.

He didn't know what he had expected, but this was not it. It was…well…there was no other word for it except horrible. Eugene was looking at him expectantly. He forced a smile and said, "It's great!" His friend clapped him on the back and went to join Nate in the crowd of chattering girls. He left Gil sitting by the bar alone, lost in his own thoughts.

With his friends basically ignoring him, he didn't know what made him keep drinking. It still tasted just as horrible as ever. Still, he kept drinking. When he was finished, he ordered another of whatever he was having. Gil tried desperately to think, but his thoughts became all clouded and muddled. He realized that that was exactly what he wanted; not to think anymore.

Gil was always one to over think things. It was a gift, as well as a curse. It was a gift in the sense that it helped him a lot in his school work. It was the way he almost always got almost perfect results. The curse side of it was stronger these days. Gil couldn't analyze every little bit of every bad thing in his life. Even though it had been nearly 3 years, he had never stopped going over Sara's death. He could no longer escape the fact that it was all his fault.

Every way he looked at it, he came to the same conclusion. If it hadn't been for him, Sara would still be alive. He knew it was true, and there was no way he could escape it. If he hadn't been so selfish, if he had at least call her, she would still be alive. He would be the one driving that car, not her. He was the one who should have died. He knew this, and it ate him up inside very day.

That was what he was trying so desperately to drown out in alcohol. It wasn't working. Instead of forgetting, the memories were becoming sharper and more depressing. No wonder it was called a depressant. The more he drank, the more the room seemed to sway and spin. That didn't deter him from his unhappy thoughts suddenly brought to the surface.

The more he drank, the clearer everything became. He didn't deserve to live. He had basically killed Sara, and someone as horrible as that shouldn't live. He pushed away the glass of frothy liquid. It had certainly succeeded at making him very tipsy. It had also made him see the truth as well; he was a horrible person. He walked over to wear he saw Nate; or more precisely two of him.

Gil was having a bit of difficulty walking. It took all of his effort to put one foot in front of the other. He wobbled a bit as he moved slowly forward. He would have fallen if he had not grabbed on to the counter. Finally, he reached where Nate and two very beautiful girls stood. Nate didn't wait for him to speak, but got to work right away.

"Gilly – 'ole buddy, 'ole pal- this 'ere some nice ladies, name", said Nate. Gil couldn't help but notice that his words were very slurred. He was probably drunk. Gil reminded himself, so was he.

"It's Tricia", the tall blond clinging to his arm supplied. The other, a curvy brunette merely giggled. Gil found it hard to form words to reply to this. It was increasingly difficult for him to form any words at all. The scene before him continued to swim strangely before him. He wasn't sure why he was there. What he was sure about was that he needed to leave.

The dance floor was nothing more than a whirl of shapes and colours. There were people in every direction he looked. The music blared loudly in his ears. "I gotta go Nate…I gotta go", he said, nodding his head. This wasn't the place for him. This club was for people who wanted to have a good time. He didn't deserve to have a good time.

Nate rummaged around in his pocket for something. He pulled out his car keys, and threw them towards Gil. Of course, the keys clattered to the floor. Gil knew that he shouldn't be driving at the moment. The logical part of his brain was screaming that to him. Unfortunately, the logical part of his brain didn't have much say anymore.

He made his way to the door. Eugene yelled goodbye to him. He shakily waved back. He knew that he really shouldn't be doing what he was about to do. All the movies he had ever seen in high school health class were quickly coming back to him. His mind was no longer working rationally. He thought only about Sara, and how he had failed her. It was an obsession, taking up all of his other thoughts.

This new found obsession had made him a little reckless. All he knew was that he had to do this, and screw the consequences. His intention in drinking, today on his birthday, had been to forget. He wanted all of his complicated feelings to fade and blur until nothing made sense anymore. Instead, the truth had never been clearer to him. He had caused Sara's death, and he had to pay.

He sped along the highway, going much faster than the speed limit. Gil knew exactly where he was going. He didn't know exactly what he would accomplish by going there, but he knew that that was where he needed to go. Driving became a bit more difficult for him than it usually was. Not that driving had ever been easy. He had nearly failed his driving test. Now, even going in a straight line was difficult.

It was a miracle that he wasn't pulled over by the cops. He made it there in record time, even considering how fast he was going. To the casual observer, this stretch of road was no different from any other. To Gil, this stretch of road meant everything. It was where he had lost not only her true love, but really, his love for life. Her car had been hit by a drunk driver, probably no different than him. He was sitting where she had lost her life.

He didn't really know why he was there. Was it to feel closer to the love he had lost? Gil didn't really think so. He had felt much too close to her for the past two and a half years. He wanted to distance herself from Sara and this stretch of road as much as possible. He wanted nothing more than to be free and escape.

If only he could just think. His thoughts were all jumbled up in his head. He couldn't make heads or tails of them. All he could think of was Sara's death and how he needed to be punished. He looked at the darkened winding road in front of him. It was 4 o' clock in the morning, and sill it was very dark. There wasn't a single person for miles. It was deserted there, just as he liked it.

Gil didn't really want any witnesses. Around the corner was a pristine lake, across which was a bridge. Gil knew that bridge very well. More specifically, he knew what was on the other side of the bridge. That was where Sara's parents live. He was pretty sure they still lived there, but he hadn't spoken to them since before Sara had died. He had to avoid them at her funeral.

He toyed briefly with the idea of going over and seeing them. What could he possibly say to them? Sara's parents had been nice, but Gil was sure they wouldn't receive him well after this long, especially at this hour. He tried to imagine their reaction. Sara's father had been a strict man of few words. Gil could imagine him doing nothing more than glaring. Sara's mother had been a little nicer, but he was afraid that when she saw him, she would burst into tears. He had killed her daughter after all.

He dismissed the idea almost as soon as he thought of it. It would be much to painful. He knew that they blamed him, possibly even more than he blamed himself. It was her parents' house that Sara was going to the day she died. He was so close to her, and close was exactly where he hated to be. He could feel her, watching him, judging him. He had to get away from it.

It took all of his effort to stumble out of the car. Gil nearly tripped over his own feet in his efforts to get away from his car. Normally he would care that he was just leaving the car unattended. He didn't care today. Looking at his feet, he walked an uncertain path away from the car. He had an idea where he was going, but he wasn't sure exactly what he would do once he got there.

It had started to rain. The cool water felt good on his ski, with was now hot and sweaty. A light drizzle quickly turned into a heavy downpour. Gil found himself not minding as he continued on. It took him less than five minutes to get where he was going. He almost passed it because he was staring at his feet the whole time. His feet had guided him to the bridge that he had often crossed with Sara. His mind was assaulted with memories of happy times and of sad. Because of the haze still in his mind, he couldn't bring himself to cry.

He held onto the railing of the bridge, his teeth chattering. It was freezing in the rain.. The cold went very deep, through his clothes and his skin until it felt like it was within him. He shivered violently. The wind hit his back, causing him to stumble forward a little. He grabbed onto the railing just in time. He was forced to look at the water that was churning now, because of the storm. It was strangely hypnotizing.

It brought back a lot of things he had kept buried. Just staring at that water brought all of his guilt to the surface. His guilt bubbled inside him just like this stream. He held onto the railing of the bridge as if it was an anchor keeping him there. He wondered what would happen if he just let go. That had been his friends' goal for him tonight, to have him let go. In truth, he wanted to let go of all the fear, the guilt and the pain.

He couldn't do it.

Theoretically, if he let go without stepping away, he would probably fall in. He wondered how bad that would be. To stop thinking, to cease to exist, that would be pure bliss. His mind would be a blank, and thoughts like this would never plague him again. Gil was seconds away from jumping. In that moment, ending it all seemed to solve everything. His failure, his loneliness and his guilt, all of that would be gone.

Without really knowing what he was doing, He had stepped gingerly over the railing and now teetered on the edge. The rain, and the fact that he was still a bit drunk, made it difficult to keep his hold. He swayed dangerously along the edge. It was a metaphor for his life. The past 2 ½ years were spent in between being thoroughly depressed, and times of laughter and joy.

For a moment, he was seriously considering jumping. That water would wash away all of his problems, just like it washed away the stones off the shore. He almost did jump, in fact. He was seconds away from taking the plunge and ending everything. All of a sudden he stopped. The reason he didn't do it, was because he just realized what Sara would say.

If she were there, she would set him straight at once. Sara would make him realize the stupid things he was doing. She would never blame him for the accident. Although he wasn't thinking very clearly at the moment, he knew that that was true. There was nothing that he could have done differently. That didn't bring Sara back, but it was still a comforting thought.

He pulled himself over the railing again, and hurried of the bridge. The rain was pouring and the wind was howling, but Gil hadn't felt better in weeks. It was as if a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It wasn't his fault. Everything became extremely clear to him in an instant. He deserved to live just as much as the next person. He deserved to live just as much as Sara had. Bad things happened all too often to good people, and he needed to expect that.

Gil never knew how he had gotten back to the car. All he knew was that very shortly after, he was sitting in the car sheltered from the rain. He watched the rain beat down on the car with dazed eyes. Gil buried his head in his arms and rested it on the back of the leather seats. That headache that he had often observed had begun. He tried to block everything out and focus on his new liberated feeling.

Gil had just realized something; two things in fact. One was that drinking was bad. He knew that already, but his experience today had proved it. His vow to never drink again was a very easy one. His other realization was a simple one as well. Life sucks.


End file.
